


Under the Cold Moon

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fireplaces, Full Moon, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, Sharing Body Heat, Snow and Ice, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5508041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack is spending the full moon at a new cabin Derek bought in the mountains. While out taking a breather, Stiles slips and falls down an embankment into the frigid waters of a creek. Then it's Derek to the rescue who must get him warm before hypothermia sets in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Cold Moon

Dec. 25, Cold Moon

The Indigenous tribes of North America called it the Cold Moon—the December full moon—since it occurred when winter was starting to take hold and temperatures began to dip below freezing. Stiles thought it was appropriate. He was bundled up in a thick coat with a sweater underneath. There was a red scarf wrapped around his neck that matched a wool cap, but his gloves and boots did little for his fingers and toes.

He didn’t know why he was standing outside, snow up to his ankles and the wind nipping at his nearly numb cheeks, just that he needed some air. Even though he wasn’t a wolf, he could still smell the awkwardness that had built up in the cabin over the course of the afternoon. It was a stifling thing that made his skin crawl, and he wondered why he had even agreed to come.

It was he and Scott’s first year in college, and his bff had been so excited to check out the new pack house Derek had bought in the foothills of the Cascades. After the pressure of finals had evaporated, the presents had been exchanged, and their Christmas feast devoured, they piled into cars and started the trek up from sea level. The drive was beautiful, the redwoods soon giving way to evergreens and the skyline turning jagged as the mountain range came into view.

There was just one teensy tiny problem: his recent breakup with Malia.

He wasn’t sure what the protocol was for that in regards to pack dynamics. Scott told him they were a package deal and that he wouldn’t go without him, which meant he had to go or he’d feel hella guilty about it. No one had maimed him or made him feel unwelcome, and Derek hadn’t mentioned anything about bodily harm—all good signs. The breakup had been amicable as well, so things with Malia were mostly okay, but there was still the undercurrent of unease that lingered.

Which was why Stiles had ventured outside into the snow, the moon bright above him and the icy crystals that layered the ground glittering in the moonbeams. The trees were dusted in white and he kept walking until he reached a quick moving stream. He could hear the water rushing by and an occasional howl in the distance as the wolves burnt off their ingrained impulse to run wild. 

Maybe he did actually have a death wish, like his father was always saying, because he found himself venturing down the steep snow-slick bank. It was slow going until he slipped and tumbled head over feet, crashing through the thin layer of ice that had crusted up along the edges before plunging into the frigid waters.

It felt like he was being stabbed with a million hot needles when the ice water hit his skin, seeping into his clothes and weighing him down. His breath was knocked out of him from the shock and the fall, and when he went to suck air into his lungs, most of what he inhaled was water. He scrambled to get to his feet in a panic, but he was coughing up water and flailing around too much to get his footing or even call for help.

Just as he was about to give in to unconsciousness, he felt hands pulling him out then felt the rocky shore against his back. He turned on his side and coughed up water, his body trembling from the cold.

Before he could even think about who had saved him, Derek took him by both arms and yanked him to his feet. “Come on, we have to get you warm.”

Stiles couldn’t argue if he wanted too.

Derek’s grip tightened around his wrist, and he all but dragged Stiles back to the cabin. He was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans—since he tended to run hot—that were now soaked through and clinging to his body as they moved through the trees. Both were stripped off along with his shoes when they reached the house.

“Take off your layers,” Derek said when Stiles just stood on the deck shivering.

Stiles’s brain must’ve been too frozen to function because it took him a moment to register that Derek’s glistening body was on display in front of him. He’d seen Derek close to naked before, and sure, the Alpha might’ve starred in a few of his hazy dreams on occasion, but he’d convinced himself a long time ago that nothing would ever come of it.

That didn’t stop him from etching the image onto a blank canvas in his mind for safekeeping and lonely nights when he’d let himself indulge in fantasies he knew would leave him aching for something—or _someone_ —to fill the void in his heart. He didn’t realize Derek had taken off his scarf, jacket, and sweatshirt for him until they were inside. Apparently, he’d lost his hat and a glove in his struggles.

The cabin wasn’t very warm, but it was better than being outside. The fire had burned almost all the way out, but there were still enough flames to cast the living room in a faint orange glow. Stiles watched Derek as he pad across the wood floor to toss a few more logs onto the hearth. Then he went into another room and came back with a rolled up sleeping bag.

“Take your clothes off,” Derek said as he started to position the bag by the fire.

Stiles’s brain must’ve thawed a little from the warmth because he had to admit that he’d imagined how that phrase would sound coming out of Derek’s mouth.

Derek waved a hand in front of his face, “Earth to Stiles. You’re going to get hypothermia if we don’t get you warm, so take off your clothes.”

Only then did he do as he was told, unbuttoning his soaked jeans and wiggling them past his numb thighs. It was starting to worry him that he couldn’t feel his toes or stop the clattering of his teeth. Derek disappeared again and reappeared with Stiles’s backpack. He dug around until he found a pair of his underwear, and maybe Stiles had imagined what they would look like balled up in Derek’s hand before as well.

Derek thrust a dry pair against his chest, “Here, put these on and get in the sleeping bag.” Then he was disappearing once more, coming back this time in a dry pair of boxer-briefs. He rolled his eyes at Stiles who was still standing by the fireplace. “I said get in the bag.”

“T-too c-c-cold,” Stiles muttered.

“And you’ll stay that way until you _get in_ ,” Derek replied, punching out the last two words to emphasize his point.

Stiles huffed out a breath and ended up coughing. He was probably going to catch pneumonia from the lungful of water he had breathed in. He felt Derek slapping his back, which helped to clear his airway, and then he was leading Stiles around to the opening of the bag. There was really no point in talking back—not to mention, he was close to freezing to death—so he crouched down and slid his legs into the bag.

It was colder than he would’ve liked it to be, but before he could reach down and pull the zipper up, Derek was sliding in next to him.

“W-what are you d-doing?”

“Stiles, you are a human popsicle. We need to warm you up as fast as possible and the best way to do that is by sharing body heat. I’m like a furnace. So shut up and turn around so I can spoon you.”

“Oh no! I’m n-not the l-little spoon.” 

Once the bag was zipped up it was a tight fit, but Derek turned over so they were face-to-face, “Fine, have it your way.”

He wedged his leg between Stiles’s and wrapped both arms around him, fitting their bodies together like plaster to a mold. Stiles yelped at the sudden invasion of what little personal space he still had but soon gave in to being cuddled because Derek was right. Heat was pouring off of him and Stiles wanted to climb right under his skin. Which was a totally normal thought, he was sure.

“What about the p-pack?” Stiles asked.

“They’ll be out for hours. I’d take you back home, but it’s not safe to drive on the roads at night with all the snow. We’ll let them have their fun, and then drive you back home first thing in the morning.”

Stiles was perfectly fine with that plan now that he had the warmth coming from the fire on one side and a mostly naked Derek wrapped around him on the other. The pack would wonder why they smelled like each other when they got back, but there was nothing that could be done about it. By the time his toes regained their feeling, Stiles had drifted off to sleep.

*****

“Malia, it’s not what it looks like,” Derek whispered as he shut the door behind him. He’d followed her out onto the porch when she stormed off after discovering him and Stiles still snuggled up hours later. He knew the rest of the pack were probably listening in, but they had nothing to hide.

“We broke up a month ago and I find you two cozied up in a sleeping bag by the fire? How is it not what it looks like?”

“He fell into the creek last night and was soaked to the bone freezing his ass off. I had to get him warm before he got hypothermia,” he explained, pointing out their now-frozen clothes that were strung out on the deck.

Her scowl softened a little, “So nothing happened?”

“Of course nothing happened. We’re family, we’re pack, and loyalty is the most important thing. How could you think I would do that to you?”

It wasn’t a lie. Despite the blooming crush he’d developed on Stiles over the years, he would never act on it, and certainly not after the relationship Stiles had had with his cousin. He had come to terms long ago with the fact he’d never have Stiles in any capacity other than pack member, and he was mostly okay with that. But for the nights when he wasn’t, there would always be the memory of them curled up together under the Cold Moon.


End file.
